Also last night's Eclectro Lounge 4 was pretty much what I was afraid of: just a handful of people coming in on Thursday night. A handful but not enough. Here is the playlist.
I'm afraid to say I'm a bit of a manic-depressive, reacting quite strongly to personal losses like people not coming to my club after all work I had done; and after having a couple of beers that night, I felt my depression getting just deeper, gloomy thoughts criscrossing my mind. Think of this: you spend days sticking posters to bulletin boards in cold winter weather and freezing your fingers (I already wrote about this), and generally working your arse off to promote the club, just to meet up with people's indifference and face their absence. You feel most of your efforts are only futile in the end. When Mika took me home in his Lada after the night, tons of destructive/self-destructive thoughts bombed my brain, and I was already thinking that I would tell everyone just to fuck off on pHinnWeb's mailing list the following day.
But that's just alcohol talking, and usually after having slept over night, my aggressive booze thoughts have evaporated. Anyway, if I had maintained my late night state of mind, it is something along these that I might have written (but didn't):
During my "career" in music I have seen more than my share of self-serving and greedy egotists, who only want to get paid, get laid and get stoned, and clueless partygoers enjoying their ephemeral pleasures.
These people are lazy, self-indulgent and selfish bastards; a bunch of unindependent herd animals who only chase after the latest trend or what is deemed fashionable in media at the time.
People are freeloaders who only want to enjoy the fruits of other people's labour but are not themselves willing to work or make sacrifices themselves to gain the end result.
Probably most people I wanted to come to my club stayed at home with their Playstations, their bongs and playing with their unmentioned body parts.
So why should I care or see the trouble for little shits like these?
And so on. And so on. To be continued.
So, this is what I might have written but didn't. Gee, I'm such a bitter man. I can hardly wait for my senior years as a grumpy old tosser, whining all day in my shabby armchair, babbling about "good old times" and threatening little kids with my walking stick on my walk to bingo.